In the ashen smoke of airliners crashing, glass shattering, and
steel evaporating, visions of internationalism and safety become difficult to
see. Bright images of progress and globalism yield to clouds of terror
and trouble. Radical Muslims have declared war on America: this
“fact,” the pictures of Muslims cheering Osama Bin Laden, and the celebratory
gestures of Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein crowded out images of mourning
Arabs. Photographs of Yassir Arafat giving blood to help the New York City
victims got little play. After the terrorist attacks of 9/11, Samuel
Huntington’s oft-challenged claim of an inevitable Clash of Civilizations (1996) between a Muslim East and a Christian West swung back into fashion.

2

In pronouncing this rupture between East and West, media
commentators often name the Iranian Revolution as the first full-blown
demonstration of Islamist radicalism. Revolutionary discourse from the
Muslim Brotherhood in the 1930s and from activist Sayyid Qutb in Egypt
predated the Iran Revolution. Yet events in Iran involved a prophetic
discourse that discounted Arab leaders as infidels and indicted Western
society as corrupt. When Osama bin Laden and al Qaeda echoed these
charges, the Ayatollah Khomeini, the Iranian Revolution, and the seizure of
American hostages emerged as the first figures of Islamic unrest recognized
by most Americans. Together these form much of the background that
popular media cite for the Attack on America.

3

The rhetorical fount of Islamist ideology in Iran was the
Ayatollah Khomeini. Through Friday sermons and occasional writings, he
discredited the U.S.-imposed monarchy of the Shah as illegitimate.
Widely read in revolutionary Iran, his treatise on Islamic Government ( Velayat-e Faqih) has become the foundation for the
post-revolutionary society. Rose portrays Khomeini as the one figure
responsible for “the restructuring of the personal and social consciousness
of Muslims into an ideologically Islamic identity” (1983, p. 167).

4

Khomeini’s rhetoric attracted those who rebelled not only
against the Shah but also against the westernization of Iran. The
Shah’s rapid modernization inundated Iranians with new values, resulting in
the loss of iraniyat: the uniquely Iranian identity.
Khomeini’s Islamist identity became the replacement. Many alternatives
such as Tudeh, the Marxist party, portrayed themselves as non-Islamic,
using discourses and symbols exogenous to Iran. Khomeini claimed a
distinctively Iranian inspiration in Shi’ite Islam. Most surviving
Islamic groups became part of Khomeini’s movement, and it channeled hostility
to the Shah toward Shi’ite Islam and Khomeini as the supreme Iranian leader.

5

Current instability in Iran and Iraq, as well as the decisive
role of the Iranian Revolution in popular constructions of radical Islam,
should return us to this pivotal moment to consider its cultural, political,
and religious exigencies along with the ideology that responds to them.
Yet Khomeini’s discourse has attracted little analysis in the area of
rhetoric. Especially its grounds in Islamic jurisprudence deserve
attention.1 These
are key aspects of his discourse and his conception of what constitutes a
true Muslim. To show this, the essay analyzes the political identity
formulated during Iran’s revolution in relation to the anti-imperial
discourse of the Ayatollah that made opposition to the Shah into a cause of
Islam.

The Rhetorical Use of Fard to Foster
a Discourse of Ritualistic Obligation

6

Shi’ite Islam teaches a variety of religious practices as being
mandatory for its followers. These include the seven major
obligations: prayer, fasting, the paying of alms, a religious tax, the
pilgrimage to Mecca, religious wars or striving ( jihad), while “enjoining
the good and forbidding the evil” ( al-amr bi’l-ma‘ruf wa’l-nahy
an’l-munkar) (‘Ali 1990). Khomeini drew on the notion of obligation
( fard) inherent within Shi’ite Islam. Both jihad and
“enjoining the good and forbidding the evil” are fard kifaya:
obligations that can be fulfilled by a designated group to satisfy their
requirement of the community (Dabashi 1993). Deciding who should
fulfill these requirements falls on the chief religious figure in the
community, the marja’-e taqlid: the “source of exemplary
conduct.” As the supreme marja-’e taqlid, Khomeini was entrusted
with the right to collect the religious tax, to order a defensive jihad,
and to require his followers to “enjoin the good and forbid evil.”

7

The Shi’ite marja’-e taqlid also has the power to
transform a fard kifaya (collective duty) into a fard ‘ayn (individual duty), obliging each person in the community to act.
As the highest ranking religious leader, Khomeini invoked these
obligations. They became an early and pivotal part of his
revolutionary discourse. In Velayat-e Faqih, for example, he
argued that “enjoining the good and forbidding the evil” is a responsibility
for the whole Islamic community:

8

The Lord of the Martyrs (upon whom be peace) speaks of “summoning
men to Islam while at the same time remedying oppression and opposing the
oppressors;” it is for the sake of these great aims that enjoining the good
and forbidding the evil has been made a duty. . . . “Enjoining the good
and forbidding the evil” is most imperative in such cases [where the
government opposes Islam].

9

Now let me ask you: were the subjects mentioned by the
Lord of the Martyrs in his sermon addressed only to the companions who were
gathered around him listening to his words? Does not the phrase “O
people, take heed” address us too? Are we not included in “people?”
(1981, pp. 118-119).

10

Before Khomeini could transform performance of these religious
practices into a revolutionary call for the entire nation, he needed to
define what constitutes good and evil in a way compelling to a massive
audience, and he needed to describe the evil forces in a manner that met
doctrinal definitions inherent within jihad. Hence he created a fard
’ayn to impel Iranians to oppose the Shah. To define himself as
good and the Shah as evil, Khomeini drew on symbolic and mythic dimensions of
Shi’a Islam. He shaped these to oblige Iranians to enact a jihad against the Shah, and he strengthened their revolutionary spirit through the
rhetorical use of ritualization.

Ideological and Historical Context

11

The Shah’s rule was marked by rapid modernization coupled with
a decided lean toward Western views and customs. The previously deposed
Shah was indebted to the West after a 1953 coup, sponsored by the CIA, had
returned him to power. The coup displaced a liberal-democratic movement
headed by Mohammed Mosaddeq (Green 1982). In 1964, the Shah
symbolically demonstrated the heavy influence of the West by extending
diplomatic immunity to all Americans living in Iran. This touched off
the first conflict between Khomeini and the Shah, resulting in the
Ayatollah’s long exile.

12

As Khomeini shifted his homeland from Turkey to Iraq, the Shah
continued with reforms, initiating what he labeled as the “White
Revolution.” During the early 1970s, the Shah strove to incorporate the Ullama (religious clergy) into the machinery of the governing body,
pressuring clerics to become members of his “Religious Corps.” At the
same time, he tried to shift the nation’s sense of identity toward its
heritage from ancient Persia, diminishing the emphasis on Islam as a source
of identification. The seventies brought with them other significant
changes. Petro dollars accelerated the Westernization of the economy
(Ramazani 1982). Yet the poor planning of the White Revolution caused
impoverishment of the peasantry, resulting in urbanization, slums, and unemployment.

13

The Shah responded to these tumultuous transformations by
strengthening the power of his military forces, installing an autocratic form
of one-party rule, and increasing the oppressive force of SAVAK, his
secret police (Khosrow 1982). Even before revolutionary protests began
in the late seventies, the Pahlavi regime had estranged itself from the
population. The regime was staunchly associated with Western values,
failed economic policies, and violations of human and political rights.

14

Khomeini stood in clear contrast to the modernist, anti-Islamic
leadership style of the Shah. He spoke to the nation from Iraq and
France, delivering the weekly Khutbah or Friday sermon which would
later be replayed in mosques throughout Iran (Ram 1994). The Khutbah is delivered by individuals of religious note and constitutes an obligatory
service for Muslims (‘Ali 1990). Through these speeches and his written
essays, the Ayatollah defined himself not only as a representative of the
religious establishment but also as the embodiment of an anti-Western,
anti-imperialist ideology.

15

Khomeini’s anti-imperialism is evident in Velayat-e Faqih:
“In order to attain the unity and freedom of the Muslim peoples, we must
overthrow the oppressive governments installed by the imperialists and bring
into existence an Islamic government of justice that will be in the service
of the people” (1981, p. 49). As Dabashi observes, “Opposing the
Iranian monarchy is negating ‘The West.’ Negating ‘The West’ is
reclaiming the political cum theological veracity of Islam: the source
of all Muslim identity” (1993, p. 509). As the supreme religious
figure, Khomeini embodied the indigenous culture of the nation. At
issue was not only an attack on the West, on what Dabashi labels the Islamic
version of “‘Other’-centricism,” but the establishment of an Iranian form of
“‘Self’-consciousness” (1993, p. 510). Khomeini’s focus on native
customs strengthened the ideal of iraniyat, of what is uniquely
Iranian (Lawrence 1990, p. 224). Thus Khomeini’s discourse stood for
something more than pan-Islamism or anti-modernization; it stood as
anti-Western ideology with the goal of attaining cultural and religious authenticity.

Symbolism and Myth:
Evoking a Conception of Good and Evil

16

Khomeini’s discourse drew on a powerful repository: the
recollection of Islamic myths and symbols. Skocpol contends in this
connection that “Shi’a Islam arguably has especially salient symbolic
resources to justify resistance against unjust authority” (1982, p.
273). Dabashi avers that “the revolutionary function of the ‘Islamic
Ideology’ received its impetus as well as its driving force from dormant
common mythologies deeply rooted in the Iranian collective memory” (1993, p.
504). Even the secularized elements in Iran ― such as the middle
and upper classes ― responded to the religious symbolism fostered by
Khomeini and the Ullama. Beeman notes that non-believers reacted
to Khomeini’s appeals, because “religious doctrine often serves as a
concretization of these core symbols, both making statements about the truth
of the conceptual world in which society exists, and prescribing for
society’s members what they should and should not do” (1983, p. 193).
With powerful symbolic associations, Khomeini’s discourse redefined modern
Iranian society by tapping old religious themes. It tied religious and
historical symbols for good and evil to contemporary figures.

17

Khomeini’s discourse drew on a Manichean conception of
religion. The reality he depicted in speeches fused worldly powers in
politics with the fundamental forces of good and evil. Iranian
experience of such dualism originates in pre-Islamic times. Zoroastrian
religion dominated the region, then called Persia. It dichotomized good
and evil as powerful opposing forces. Evil is represented by the
exterior world, batin; while good is the interior core, zahir.
Zoroastrian dualism eventually was assimilated into the monotheism of Islam,
which substituted God (Allah) for “good” and the devil (Shaitan) for
“evil.” Shaitan is known as the Great Satan, the great tempter,
stemming from his role in the fall of Adam. Because Islam associates
the devil with the exterior of the body or the nation, this figure of Satan
was ripe for exploitation in a discourse of anti-Imperialism (Bateson 1977,
pp. 269-270).

18

The batin, or exterior, has strong negative implications
rooted in the nation’s past. Iranian history reveals a persistent
pattern of foreign subjugation. From the classical period through the
British and Russian occupations of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries to
recent politics, Iran has been overwhelmed by a succession of worldly powers,
each emanating from the batin. The repeated usurpations have fed
Iranian fears of the exterior, which threatens the zahir, the inside
world of the Iranian nation.

19

Khomeini’s discourse depended on this dualism. He
emphasized dual forces of good and evil, holy and satanic, foreign and
indigenous influences. Khomeini depicted the Shah in devil terms.
Constructing an image for the Shah with great saliency in Iran, Khomeini
portrayed him as non-Muslim. Critical to subverting his symbolic power
as King was exclusion of the Shah from all sacred images of Islam.
Khomeini associated him instead with infidelity and evil. This
construction linked the Shah to the forces of batin. Khomeini
featured anti-Islamic changes that the Shah had imposed on the country.
He associated the Shah’s White Revolution to modernize Iran with ancient
Persia (Heisey 1983, p. 160). Comparing the Shah to an evil,
pre-Islamic king, Khomeini proclaimed, “The religious leaders will hoist the
banner of Islam to exact vengeance on this Zuhhak of the age, and the
nation of Islam, with their hearts in unison and obeying the life-giving
teachings of the Qur’an, will expunge every trace of this anti-Islamic regime
that wishes to revive Zoroastrianism” (1981, p. 230).

20

The Shah aided this interpretation, demonstrating a desire to
return to the Persian culture that preceded the influence of Islam. His
self-coronation ceremony and a 2,500-year anniversary celebration of the
Iranian monarchy adopted pre-Islamic themes. He switched from the
Islamic calendar to the one used by a pre-Islamic ruler, Cyrus the
Great. Khomeini seized on this act as a sign of the Shah’s
determination to eradicate Islam. The Shah “is against the Islamic
calendar. To be against the Islamic calendar is to be against Islam
itself; in fact the worst thing that this man has done during his reign is to
change the calendar. Changing the calendar is even worse than the
massacres; it is an affront to the Most Noble Messenger himself (peace and blessings
be upon him)” (1981, pp. 217-218).

21

Khomeini also relied on specific personas that mobilized the
audience sense of Iranian history and religion. He invested the
political language of Iranian revolution with three compelling
characters: Yazid, Shaitan, and the holy Imam. These
figures proved especially effective.

22

The Shah became Yazid, a figure from Islamic faith.
Historically Islam began with Mohammed, whose authority was passed to Abu
Bakr and eventually to the Prophet’s son-in-law, Ali. Ali was soon
assassinated; and leadership was to pass to Ali’s son, Hasan. In the
general confusion, however, a military commander named Yazid came to
power. Husain, Hasan’s younger brother, refused to pay allegiance to
Yazid, whom he saw as evil. Husain fled with his followers into the
desert (Armajani 1979, pp. 17-18). Yazid pursued the group and executed
them brutally. In the Shi’ite religion, Husain is the greatest
political hero, and Yazid the most heinous of all rulers. Yazid becomes
the despicable evil among Iranians, one that must be destroyed.
Sometimes Khomeini directly called the Shah “Yazid.” On other
occasions, he evoked the persona by comparison. In the Khutbah,
“In Commemoration of the First Martyrs of the Revolution,” Khomeini declared
that “The Messenger of God (peace and blessings be upon him) was indeed a
true Shadow of God; but is this vile Shah a shadow of God? Yes, a few
thoughtless people among us say so, but that would mean that Yazid was also a
‘holder of authority’ and anyone who rebelled against him deserved to be
killed!” (1981, p. 226).

23

Khomeini constructed the United States as the Shaitan,
the Great Satan, the evil enemy that threatens Iran from outside. For
Iranians, the Great Satan is the lascivious and tempting devil, a corrupting
force that becomes the ultimate menace to Islam (Beeman 1983). Like
radical Islamists before and since, Khomeini condemned the United States as a
secular wasteland where wanton sexuality and consumer goods lure people into
forgetting genuine goodness. Of course, he capitalized on the mythic
relationship between Yazid and the Great Satan. Yazid was a pawn of Shaitan;
thus the Shah, by analogy, was as a pawn of the Great Satan of America.
Khomeini emphasized the Shah’s addictive and poisonous service to the West by
talking of Gharbzadegi or “Westoxication” (Rose 1983, p. 182).

24

In contrast, the Ullama (the Iranian clergy) and various
revolutionaries treated Khomeini as indigenous ( iraniyat) and
hallowed, centering him within the good zahir (interior). This
was evident in posters disseminated throughout Iran in praise of the
Ayatollah. One illuminated Khomeini with a divine aura and said, “When
the devil goes, the angel arrives” (Merriam 1981, p. 396) In opposition
to the evil Shah and the satanic Americans, Khomeini became the Imam:
the religious epitome of goodness, wisdom, and instruction. As a title,
“Imam” marks the respect of the religious community, much as “reverend,”
“rabbi,” or “father” does in other religions. Yet elements of
Khomeini’s persona and discourse also linked the title to a more transcendent
image. Through his choice of theological stories and his charismatic,
mystical presentation of them, Khomeini adhered closely to a culturally
established figure of religious authority larger by far than a local priest
or minister.

25

The mythic dimensions of the Imam as a figure of authority
reach deep into Shi’ite history. The Shi’ite sect of Islam is often
called the “twelver” sect, because it believes in the evolution of twelve
different Imams. Ali acquired the title as the first Imam, after the
death of the Prophet Mohammed and his early successors. Each Imam is
thought to personify a direct link between God and man. Only the Imam
could rightfully rule the people and formulate Islamic law, functioning as
liaison between this world and the one beyond. Siddiqui defines the
power, sacred and secular, behind the idiomatic term: “Whatever version
of Shi’ism one looks at, at whatever point it may have expressed itself in
Islamic history, the crucial point has been the doctrine of the Imamate, the
figure of the Imam, who is not merely the successor of the Prophet (on whom
be peace) in a legislative, administrative and even military capacity, but is
also in some sense an extension of the spiritual dimensions of the prophetic
mission” (1980, p. 32).

26

Early in Shi’ite history, the twelfth Imam went into “occultation,”
disappearing from the sight of his followers. Shi’ites believe that he
will reemerge at a future date to lead the faithful followers into the golden
age, where the world will be tranquil and Islamic. Within the Shi’ite
tradition, only the Imam has authority to rule the community. After the
original occultation, however, secular rulers arose and created what the
faithful viewed as legitimate political power. In Velayat-e Faqih,
Khomeini successfully radicalized this tradition by denying authority to all
secular powers and designating members of the religious community instead as
the legitimate successors to the earlier Imam: “Today, the fuqaha [jurists, plural of faqih] of Islam are proofs to the people.
Just as the Most Noble Messenger (upon whom be peace and blessings) was the
proof of God . . . so, too, the fuqaha are the proof of the Imam (upon
whom be peace) to the people. All the affairs of the Muslims have been
entrusted to them. God will advance a proof and argument against anyone
who disobeys them in anything concerning government, the conduct of Muslim
affairs, or the gathering and expenditure of public funds” (1981, p.
87). In this rendition of the Imam, Khomeini made secular authority
illegitimate and legitimated the fuqaha ― the religious clerics
trained in Islamic jurisprudence ― as authoritative successors to the
hidden Imam. As the supreme religious leader , the marja‘-e
talqid, Khomeini himself became the ultimate successor to the hidden
Imam: the only legitimate holder of authority.

27

During the revolution, Khomeini typically was identified by the
religious title of Imam.2
Khomeini never insinuated that he was the actual Imam, returned from
occultation; theological constraints would have rendered such a claim
blasphemous. Yet as Merriam notes, “while Khomeini has made no claims
that he is god, his extraordinary influence on millions of Iranian Shi’ites
is inevitably linked to their belief in and expectation of the Holy Imam”
(1981, p. 398). Fischer (1980, p. 177) describes a series of legends
concerning Khomeini that began during the revolution, legends that prophesied
his eventual return from exile to his native land. These supported the
belief that he was the twelfth Imam, creating a mythic figure attractive to
the Iranian people.

28

Max Weber (1968) long ago showed how leaders with charismatic
qualities are often treated as if endowed with superhuman powers.
Reinhard Bendix stresses the importance of circumstances: charismatic
leaders frequently arise in times of crisis, when people “surrender
themselves to a heroic figure” (1977, p. 300). Dimensions of Khomeini’s
ethos ― his emphasis on mystical Islam, his ascetic behavior, even his
physical distance from the nation as his words spread disembodied throughout
the land ― helped foster a comparison to the holy hidden Imam.
Khomeini’s persona, coupled with his unyielding adherence to religious
principles, meshed with the culturally accepted image of a religious
authority. All these theological and charismatic factors associated him
with the omnipotent persona of the hidden Imam.

29

This role of the Imam enabled Khomeini to invoke the religious
token of the “golden age.” In Islamic teachings, the golden age is the
transcendent epoch that occurs after the hidden Imam returns to
earth. Historically the golden age has been viewed as a time when
the world would be peaceful, prosperous, and wholly Islamized. Again
Khomeini fostered this association through theoretical writings. He
argued in Velayat-e Faqih that only through a truly Islamic government
could peace and tranquility come to earth. In ridding Iran of the Shah,
the evil and illegitimate holder of authority, the religious fuqaha ― as the defenders of true justice ― would be able to spread
justice and happiness throughout the land. “The two qualities of
knowledge of the [Islamic] law and justice are present in countless fuqaha of the present age. If they would come together, they could establish a
government of universal justice in the world” (1981, p. 62).

30

For a country filled with broken, unhappy people, this
vision provided strength and hope. If the inhabitants could be
persuaded that Khomeini was the hidden Imam, they might believe that Khomeini
could usher in a halcyonic golden age. That image, Halliday (1984, p.
201) maintains, infused supporters with energy, convincing them that their
struggle was not futile and that revolutionary change could bring a better
day.

31

The three personas, related figures, and doctrinal definitions
in Khomeini’s discourse seemed to persuade many Iranians that the Shah was
more than a political oppressor: instead he was an evil influence that
could lead to the downfall of Islam in Iran and on earth. Summoning the
sense of duty for al-amr bi’l-ma‘ruf wa’lnahy an’-l-munkar (“enjoining
the good and forbidding the evil”), Khomeini established an exigency for
action.

32

The pervasive power of Khomeini’s discourse is apparent in an
anecdote told by Jerrold Green. In a government copy center, Green
attempted to reprint a revolutionary pamphlet. At first the man behind
the desk, an employee of the Shah, refused. But later the man
criticized the poor quality of the copy and produced another from a huge pile
on his machine. Green viewed this incident as indicative of the allure
of Khomeini’s appeal. The copy machine employee, “in his own fashion,
was a revolutionary. He was never recruited into a formal oppositional
structure but rather responded to stimuli rampant in the Iran of
1978-79. He had two choices open to him, support for the Shah or for
Khomeini. He chose the latter, as did most Iranians, giving into vague
though irresistible instincts by supporting what most Iranians were led to
believe was good over evil” (1984, p. 162).

Ritualistic Obligation:Fard and Khomeini’s Call for Jihad

33

The concept of jihad is an important component of
Islamic religious faith, one frequently misconstrued in the West. The
term has two main meanings. First, and most commonly, it refers to a
form of striving exerted by each Muslim for the betterment of Islam.3 Second, jihad can mean a “military action with the object of the expansion of Islam and, if
need be, of its defense,” although a religious leader may still encourage a
more peaceful enactment of jihad (“Djihad” 1960, p. 538). The
Qur’an says that jihad is “‘an act of pure devotion’; it is ‘one of
the gates to Paradise;’ rich heavenly rewards are guaranteed for those who
devote themselves to it” (p. 539). Jihad as a military action is
a collective duty ( fard kifaya) and is obligatory for the individuals
who reside nearest to the domain of need. Yet the sovereign authority
may transform jihad from a fard kifaya into a fard ’ayn,
an individual obligation (p. 539). Its ability to impose individual
obligations made jihad a critical part of Khomeini’s rhetoric for
Iranian revolution.

34

Khomeini constructed jihad into a rhetorical strategy by
conveying a two-part message: First, the Shah is an infidel, making him
a target for impending jihad. And second, self-sacrifice and
martyrdom are inevitable components of the impending jihad.

35

In calling for jihad against the Shah, Khomeini faced an
daunting doctrinal barrier in Islam. Traditionally jihad was
used against only the dal al-harb: the external infidels who
threatened the security of the borders of Islamic countries and, by
extension, the Islamic faith. This focus did not fit Khomeini’s
cause. The Shah, as a member of the long-standing Pahlavi regime, could
not be portrayed as an external enemy who endangered the autonomy of
Iran. Recognizing this, Khomeini shifted the figure to emphasize that
the overarching rational for jihad is not to protect nations qua
nations but rather the Islamic faith. In “ Muharram: The
Triumph of Blood over the Sword,” a speech delivered in November of 1978,
Khomeini decreed that the Shah “threatens the higher interests of the Muslims
and the dictates of Islam with imminent destruction for the sake of his own
satanic rule and his parasitic masters” (1981, p. 242). Consistent with
figuring the Shah as Yazid, Khomeini’s message was that threats to Islam can
originate from inside as well as outside an Islamic nation. Jihad against internal forces that contravene the doctrines of Allah can be every
bit as justified as holy war against external aggressors.

36

Khomeini also called for martyrs to give their lives in jihad against the Shah. During his reign, the Shah had often demonstrated a
willingness to use any means necessary to quell protest ― including
heavily-armed troops, tanks, and deadly attacks with aircraft. For the jihad against the Pahlavi regime to succeed, Khomeini needed to strengthen the
resolve of revolutionaries to the point where they would be willing to die
for their cause if needed. Overwhelming logistical superiority of the
Shah’s army made the carnage of thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands, seem
inevitable. How could Khomeini summon the anti-Shah forces to such a
confrontation? His glorified image of martyrdom likened the struggle of
Iranian masses to the earlier sacrifices of Islamic martyrs: “Your
blood is being shed for the same cause as the blood of the prophets and the
Imams and the righteous. You will join them and you have no cause to grieve
therefore, but every reason for joy” (1981, p. 240). Khomeini
emphasized that revolutionary acts would be rewarded in a glorious spiritual
afterlife for all who stood true to Islam. This also minimized the
value of earthly lives lost. No price, including death, would be too
great to pay (Ayoub 1978, p. 46).

37

The trust engendered by Khomeini’s rhetoric of martyrdom became
visible in the actions of Iranians, with thousands martyring
themselves. One woman expressed her interpretation of the revolutionary
rhetoric: “Now the people are aware of the whole meaning of religion. .
. . This year we know that his message is ― death. If you
can kill, kill. If you can’t, die in the attempt. Either kill or
get killed, but like Husain [the martyred prophet] fight against repression
and tyranny” (Hegland 1983, pp. 229-230). Many cases of similar
testimony suggest that Khomeini’s discourse resonated throughout the nation
to alter conceptions of sacrifice and martyrdom. When the religious
leaders finally called for the armed struggle, many Iranians responded to
undo the Shah.

The Husain Ritual

38

Khomeini’s messages of revolution culminated in a holy Islamic
ritual. Ritual can have great power to commit people to causes or
values. Langer explained that a ritual is “primarily an articulation of feelings. The ultimate product of such articulation is not a simple
emotion, but a complex, permanent attitude . . . [that] yields a
strong sense of tribal or congregational unity, of rightness and security”
(1957, p. 153). According to Hegland (1983, p. 235), the Husain ritual
was the single most decisive factor in destroying the spirit of the Shah’s
army, resulting in the government’s demise. In a war of numbers and
will power, this ritual generated marches and demonstrations that involved
millions of people, inducing the collapse of the Pahlavi dynasty.

39

The ritual originated in Husain’s martyrdom at the hand of
Yazid’s army in a desert place called Karbala. Throughout each year,
the Shi’ite calendar relates various stories tied to Karbala, with Ashura
― the day of Husain’s death ― marking the climax. The
ritual involves smiting the breast, chanting, and wailing (Pelly 1879); and
the revolutionary performance altered little. Yet its meaning too was
shaped by religious dissenters from the regime, especially by the Ayatollah,
to serve the revolution. Hegland observes that “The success of the
revolution followed a transformation in the understanding of the central
message of Shi’i Islam among the Iranian masses. Leaders of the
revolution from religious, educational, and bazaari groups were successful in
their advocacy of revolution because they presented an ideology appealing to
large numbers of both Shi’i Muslims and non-Shi’is” (1983, p. 219). She
concludes that the Husain persona shifted from “Husain as Intercessor,” with
people praying to him for favors and a path to paradise, to “Husain as
Example,” with people treating him as a role model for protest against the
tyranny of an evil government (pp. 225-230).

40

This shift proved crucial in mobilizing Iranian masses.
It happened in three steps. The first was furnished by revolutionary
leaders such as Dr. Ali Shari’ati, an Islamic scholar who preached resistance
to unjust authority (Dabashi 1993, p. 102). Many of these leaders had
died or left the country, indeed Shari’ati perished two years before the
revolution. yet their words provided a basis for the formation of
dissent. The second step came from Khomeini. As the most widely
recognized resistance leader, he promulgated revolutionary arguments that
relied at times on the newly reconstructed persona of Husain. Third,
the Ullama disseminated these revolutionary messages, promoting the
new meaning of the Husain ritual throughout the nation. By the time the
revolution reached its climax, vast numbers of Iranians shared the
reconstructed sense of the Husain ritual.

41

As revered interpreters of Islam, religious leaders facilitated
revision of what they called the formerly “erroneous” conception of the
Husain ritual. Yet the public may have been ready in any event for a
new perspective on the ritual that could increase their emotional commitment
to the revolution. The Khomeini discourse of jihad and martyrdom
transubstantiated the ritual into a vehicle for people to express their
despair and enact a willingness to die for the destruction of the evil that
they felt to pervade their country. Hegland cites a Persian phrase that
exemplifies this feeling: az khod gozashteh refers to a person’s
willingness to sacrifice life itself in order to end an intolerable
circumstance. As an Iranian woman told Hegland, “When I no longer care
about my own life, when I’ve given up on my own life, I don’t need you any
more. . . . If I know I’m going to die, I will shoot at the person who
is making me unhappy. It doesn’t matter if he hits me back, because I
am going to die anyway” (1983, p. 233).

42

Khomeini was able to address these feelings and infuse
individuals with hope, even if it could be actualized only through death,
through giving the expression of hostility a ritualized form. Muharram
is the night before Ashura, the day of Husain’s death. In his Friday Khutbah sermon on “ Muharram: The Triumph of Blood Over the Sword,”
Khomeini instructed people to rebel: “There is no need to remind you
that mourning assemblies must be fully independent, and not dependent on
permission by the police or that subversive body called the security
organization. Dear people, organize your gatherings . . . in public
squares, in thoroughfares and streets, and proclaim the sufferings endured by
Islam and the Muslims and the treacherous acts of the Shah’s regime” (1981,
p. 244). Given November 23, 1978, this speech marked a critical moment
in the history of the revolution. Before the time of Muharram,
Khomeini had not issued a specific call for people to revolt against the
government. Now he was linking the performance of the Husain ritual,
imbued with new meaning, to a final confrontation with the forces of the
Shah. Khomeini had claimed the holiest day of the Islamic calendar for
rousing people to reject the Shah.

43

From a rhetorical perspective, the use of this traditional
religious ritual is striking. Bennett argues that the need for myth and
ritual has deep roots as a “primary process [where] thinking is characterized
by projection, fantasy, the incorporation of nonverbal imagery, a high
emotional content . . . and the generation of multiple levels of meaning”
(1983, p. 43). Rituals bind people through shared symbols that create
common purpose. The group dynamic can carry people farther than any
individual would have gone. Analyzing the Husain ritual, Kertzer says
that “the most dramatic role of ritual in the political process is that of
inspiring masses of people to take some action. . . . Ritual provides
the symbolism which makes action legitimate, while providing the social
condition which makes taking action not only possible but often compelling
and sometimes unreflective” (1983, p. 64). Ritual acts help
participants experience “truths” that obviate the need for independent
cognition by the individuals who perform them.

44

Rituals are consummatory devices that can provide in themselves
the basis for action (Aronoff 1983, p. 9). In Iran, this non-discursive
communication sidestepped many possible questions and uncertainties, enabling
Khomeini to mobilize people successfully against the Shah. The
seemingly sudden upheaval shocked the Shah’s troops and overwhelmed his
government. Kertzer concurs that the Husain ritual was a key to the
Iranian revolution: “the fall of the Shah was directly precipitated by
the performance of a mass ritual held as part of the commemoration of the
anniversary of Hussein’s [sic] martyrdom” (1983, p. 65).

The Rhetoric of Obligation and Ideology

45

Rather than rely on irrationalism and fanaticism, as critics of
Islam maintain, Khomeini’s discourse features theological obligation
supported by the use of symbols, myths, and religious personas; the
requirement of jihad redirected to target internal evils; and the
rhetorical transmutation of an important Islamic ritual. These moves
reflect several considerations specific to Iran at the time. (1) The
oppressive character of the Shah’s regime mandated the use of discursive and
non-discursive symbols to avoid the direct criticism that produced
imprisonment or disappearance of regime enemies. (2) Opponents of the
regime could interpret religious and secular history to influence the beliefs
and actions of the citizenry. And (3) a preexisting religious ritual
was available for reinterpretation to change its communal meaning.

46

Based largely on Shi’ite conceptions of authority, legitimacy,
and obligation, Khomeini’s revolution of 1979 shaped itself to popular images
of leadership and used the rhetorical apparatus available such leaders.
As the only viable alternative to the Shah, Khomeini could invoke a strict
and doctrinal conception of fard that grounded personal obligations in
traditions of Shi’ite Islam. Once Khomeini framed the revolutionary
confrontation as an issue of Islamic identity, centered on embracing
indigenous culture and condemning Western imperialism, he had delegitimated
the Shah and potentially competing opponents. Islamic tradition was the
domain for Khomeini’s rhetorical invention. Using the topoi of
this tradition, he stressed the symbolic, mythical, and ritualistic
dimensions of Shi’ism.

47

Khomeini’s radical reinterpretations of some elements of
Shi’ite theology fortified his power. His ethos of mysticism conferred
a sacred status through charismatic qualities that could oblige his followers
in ways unavailable to other Ayatollahs. Combined with his charisma,
the use of fard enabled Khomeini to attract the lion’s share of
followers, which his rhetoric helped shape into a devoted, potent movement.

48

Ultimately it was Khomeini’s rhetorical victory that
opened the religious and political doors for legal implementation of his
Islamic form of government. As the religious and political head of the
government, Khomeini could define scriptural forms of obligation for all
citizens of Iran, not just the faithful. Khomeini’s theology fed his
rhetorical crusade by enhancing his authority, but his discourse transformed
theological argument into constitutional law.

49

Iran still organizes itself according to the Khomeini’s
dictates, and Velayat-e Faqih is required reading for Iran’s fifteen
million school children (Arjomand 1980). The impact of pan-Islamic
versions of his discourse is notable throughout the Middle East. Many
of Tehran’s current strategies stem from Khomeini’s revolutionary devices
(Ibrahim 1992, p. 2). To a world in the wake of 9/11, the Iranian Revolution
and the hostage crisis of 1979 remain strong symbols of a clash of cultures
that shadows in the possibility of Islamic revolutions elsewhere.

50

Despite the discourse of al Qaeda and other radical Islamists,
however, the revolutionary pendulum in Iran appears to be swinging in an
opposite direction. The student protests in 1999 and again in 2003
portend an ending or at least a softening of Khomeini’s Islamic
Revolution. Students who were not yet born during Khomeini’s revolution
protest the political, religious, and personal oppressions in Iran.
Their criticisms seem ironically similar to dissent from the Shah’s regime a
quarter-century before. How these events might continue, how the recent
war in Iraq might affect its neighbor, and how worries about nuclear weapons
in Iran might influence grass-roots attitudes toward the current religious
and political leadership remain to be seen. In many respects, though,
the rhetoric of the Iranian Revolution and Khomeini’s discourse of Islamic
radicalism seem likely to remain dynamics important for the region and the
world.

Notes

1
This analysis serves a different goal from the one addressed by Heisey and
Trebing. In their analysis, they compared the “rhetorical visions”
presented to the Iranian people by both the Shah and Khomeini. This
work concentrates on the theological and ideological grounding of Khomeini’s
discourse and the impact it had on creating what has become an enduring Islamic
identity.

Bateson, M. C. 1977. “Safayi Batin: A Study of the
Interrelations of a Set of Iranian Ideal Character Types.” In L.
C. Brown and N. Itzkowits, eds., Psychological Dimensions of Near Eastern
Studies. Princeton: Darwin Press, pp. 269-270.

Beeman, W. O. 1983. “Images of the Great
Satan: Representations of the United States in the Iranian
Revolution.” In N. R. Keddie, ed., Religion and Politics in Iran.
New Haven: Yale University Press, p. 193.